Celestial Language
by Batsutousai
Summary: "You have a class about the stars, do you not?" "Yeah," Harry agreed quietly, eyes tracking over the glimmering illusion. "Teach me," Salazar requested, rubbing his fingers against Harry's scalp.


**Title:** _Celestial Language_  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Author:** Batsutousai  
**Rating:** Teen  
**Pairing:** Harry Potter/Salazar Slytherin, suggestion of Harry/Ginny  
**Warnings:** Alternate Universe, angst, morning before Final Battle, love triangle  
**Summary:** _"You have a class about the stars, do you not?"_  
_"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly, eyes tracking over the glimmering illusion._  
_"Teach me," Salazar requested, rubbing his fingers against Harry's scalp._

**Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N:** tsuyuhime, in response to my request for fluff prompts, requested 'Harry/Salazar; blood magic, music, enchanting? '  
I admit, blood magic and fluffy were failing to connect in even the slimmest of ways in my head, so...I dropped it. ^.^" Sorry~ (I struggled enough with the fluff part as it was. XD)

This Harry and Salazar bear no resemblance to any of the ones I've written before. (I almost used the ones from an unposted fic, then realised I'd have to explain too much of the plot to catch you people up. So. :P)

I admit, I forgot I was supposed to be doing these. Whoops. Sorry, everyone.

-0-

"Is there a reason you're sitting up here like a...what is the phrase for it again?"

"Tragic hero," the young man curled up on the window ledge replied.

"Oh, no, that's far too kind," Salazar insisted before snapping his fingers as the term came to him. "Drama queen."

Acidic green eyes turned to pin him with a look that would have been far more effective if he didn't look so defeated.

Salazar just raised an eyebrow at him and moved across the small tower room. By the time he reached him, Harry had turned back to look out the window, and Salazar followed his gaze to the camp sitting on the other side of the faintly glowing wards. "You're not helping anyone by sitting up here," he commented quietly, raising a hand to lightly brush through the mop of black hair.

Harry leaned into the touch, a breath escaping him and taking what little tension had helped him remain sitting up. He leaned against Salazar, his eyes going up to the dome surrounding them. "I miss the stars," he murmured.

Godric would have made some quip in hopes of winning a weak laugh, Helga would have hugged the young man as though he were a child just woke from a nightmare, and Rowena would have something entirely too pragmatic and not in the least helpful to share.

Salazar pulled out his wand and cast a quiet spell to light the room behind him with an image of the night sky.

Harry shifted so he could see around the displaced Founder and let out a quiet gasp. When he looked up at Salazar, there was wonder and gratitude in equal measures in his eyes.

Salazar moved out of the way, putting his back against the wall next to the window, but keeping close enough that his hand never had to leave the back of Harry's head. "You have a class about the stars, do you not?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly, eyes tracking over the glimmering illusion.

"Teach me," Salazar requested, rubbing his fingers against Harry's scalp.

Harry let out a quiet sound, somewhere between pleasure and confusion. "But don't you know them?" he asked after a long moment of nudging his head back against Salazar's hand. (In moments like this, it was so painfully obvious Harry had grown up without positive physical contact, that Salazar wondered how so many of the professors and older students could possibly deny his home situation had been wretched.)

"Not these," Salazar murmured, voice quiet to match the atmosphere that had fallen over them with the stars. "It's been well over a thousand years; even stars change over that much time."

Harry hummed in understanding, then pushed himself off the window ledge. When Salazar dropped his hand from the mess of black hair, Harry caught it and very pointedly pulled Salazar's hand forward, setting it against his stomach.

Salazar took the hint, stepping forward and wrapping his other arm around the younger man, clasping his hands against Harry's navel. "You told me no," he murmured, voice carefully neutral; Harry had made it clear almost a month ago that he wasn't going to explore the attraction that had bloomed between them practically from the moment Salazar fell out of the magical mirror Harry and his friends had found in the Room of Requirement. The young man had sworn he was in a relationship, that he would _never_ date another man, but Salazar had recognised the pull for what it was: Compatible magic ignored such trifles as gender and time.

But Salazar was nothing if not patient. He had figured he could wait the younger man out, expected it to take a couple years, but this...

Harry had tensed, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he relaxed back against Salazar, letting him take the younger wizard's weight. "I changed my mind," he said, something secret and painful whispering through the words; his girlfriend must have done or said something.

Salazar wanted to insist he wouldn't be a rebound, or Harry's momentary respite, but he didn't want to ruin the magic of the moment. _Patience_.

He pointed to the only spot of light that wasn't twinkling. "This one is unfamiliar to me."

"Really?" Harry said, honest surprise in the word. He reached out, brushing the tip of his longest finger against the edge of the illusion. "That's Saturn. It's one of the planets in our solar system."

Salazar considered that, then shrugged; it wasn't familiar to him, but he'd also never been one for gazing at the sky. (Not that he was about to admit that.) "Tell me others."

Harry was silent for a long moment before he tugged Salazar forward, towards the centre of the magical sky. He pulled out his wand and used its extra reach to point out the stars, naming them and connecting dots, forming constellations.

Sometimes, Harry knew the story behind the name, and he would take a moment to tell it. Stories of gods Salazar had known in his old life, brought through time and strained through the barriers of language and Christianity's heavy hands with only a couple of bruises.

They leaned against one another, cocooned in the illusion of stars, the war on their doorstep forgotten.

And at the last, when all the stars were named and the lines connected, Harry whispered, "I'm going to die."

Salazar knew what he meant, had known from the moment he'd touched Harry's magic and felt the dark taint wrapped so tightly with his soul. "Did you tell her?" he asked, the words but a breath; he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Harry shook his head. "I can't," he admitted, and the words sounded like defeat.

Salazar tightened his grip on the young wizard, rested his forehead against the back of Harry's head and fought the urge to sneeze as the wild hair tickled his nose. "I'll bring you back," he whispered. Because magic couldn't have brought him here, only for him to lose the very man he'd been brought for.

"I know," Harry answered, simple and coloured with a smile Salazar couldn't see. He reached out, fingers brushing against a line connecting stars, touching the memories of gods never quite forgotten. "Do you believe in them, Salazar?" he asked, no hint of judgement in the question.

"Yes," Salazar admitted, honest. "Not these, necessarily, but I do believe in my gods. The 'old gods'."

Harry was quiet for a long moment, considering, before he turned in Salazar's arms and looked up at him, face lit by the stars. "Can you dance?"

Salazar knew his smile was self-deprecating, that it told the truth without him having to admit, "Poorly. Very, very poorly."

Harry smiled back, the same turn to his lips as there was to Salazar's. "Then we can step on each other's toes," he decided and pulled Salazar with him as he moved around the room. He hummed under his breath, a tempo to match steps that neither of them could quite manage.

Salazar let him keep on for no more than five minutes before he pulled Harry close, forced him to sway with him; it was the one dance move Salazar could never mess up.

Harry laughed, and the stars twinkled, and Salazar knew the night would end and the war would begin, but, for the moment, everything was exactly as it should be.

For the moment, he was happy.

..


End file.
